We returned from the excursion too tired on Monday to decorate the tree, so we decided to tackle it the next evening. On Tuesday, we threw a log in the fireplace, decorated the tree, and sipped hot cocoa and hot apple cider while Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra belted out the traditional favorites. The kids were heading to their mom’s for a few days the next morning, and then the three of us were heading to Alabama for a week to visit my family, so as I sat there in the glow of the fire after the kids were asleep, it seemed like an awful lot of effort for what amounted to really one night of a decorated Christmas tree for the three of us to enjoy. After Christmas, as I prepared to start taking down the tree and Christmas decorations, I began to look at the ornaments on the tree – the trout, the crystal, a small train that my own mother gave me when I was 6, all of the other ornaments from each of my children’s and my own Christmases. The warm rush of my own memories and our traditions, as well as those that I hope my children will look back on and remember when they are older, really answered any questions that I might have ever had.

Between now and the next Christmas tree and new ornaments, I wish you all a happy and prosperous New Year.

The Harvest Tour was, again, an incredible chance to visit some of the Port lodges in Porto and some Port quintas (wineries) in the Douro Valley to sample a little over 200 wines. They ranged from 1937 Colheita Ports from both Noval and Burmester and an amazing 1935 White Port, to some new “Ports” from grapes that had been literally been picked just days before. We had a wonderful group of people on the trip, as you will probably be able to tell from the photos.

After the week in Portugal, I headed east to Italy. Rome was my first stop, where I spent a few days staring in awe at the Coliseum, ruins and 2000+ years of history. There is nothing quite like strolling on Palatine Hill (which was inhabited as early as 1000 BC) and among the ruins of places like the royal palace and suddenly realizing how old the the piece of marble that you are walking is. It was dizzying to contemplating that Caesar Agustus or Domitian might have walked on that very same floor.

After Rome, I spent a few days in Florence reveling in some of the greatest Renaissance art and sculpture on the earth. Alas, none of the museums allowed photos of any kind, and descriptions could never do those works justice, but I was completely fascinating to see first hand the artistic shift during the Renaissance that transformed the art from flat, two dimensional iconic representations to more realistic three-dimensional masterpieces.

My final stop in Italy was Cinque Terre, five small towns on the rocky Mediterranean coast near Florence. The train connecting the five towns is basically one long tunnel, which emerges briefly from the rock at each of the stations. I certainly was not prepared for what I saw when the train exited the tunnel into the bright Mediterranean sunshine at Montorosso – azure blue skies, an exquisite blue sea, and the five quaint towns (all connected by the aforementioned train, a ferry boat, and a hiking trail). An afternoon swim in the sea, a hike through the five towns, and an unforgettable sunset from on outdoor cafe left me with some of my most memorable moments of the whole trip.

Now, on to the poem of the month… One of the first things I noticed when I returned to Seattle was that the leaves were beginning to change, painted in a rich palate of golds, browns, ambers and reds. It was with pleasant surprise, then, that I came across this poem last night, as it invokes a journey, the changing colors of the leaves, and a dawning awareness of nature upon returning home.
Pictures of Portugal and Italy:
stewarttodd.smugmug.com

Wow – the summer has flown by, it’s final sigh marked by the return of my children to school yesterday. I hope that you all had a wonderful summer, filled with memories to last a lifetime.

I came across this poem on the same day a wedding invitation arrived in the mail, and I thought that perhaps it was the poem selecting me, rather than me selecting the poem. Matt and Kari – my wish for you both, and for all of us really, is a life filled with resilient love and passion, and whistling teapots late at night…

The first, my recent trip to Portugal and Spain, was understandably exciting and enjoyable. But in the rugged wine country of Northern Portugal in the middle of their hectic wine harvest, I was struck by people who are both gracious and humble, and have an indescribable passion for the land and its fruits. I walked with a winemaker through the rock-filled vineyard and listened to him speak passionately about his vines, until he stopped at his vegetable garden, cut a ripe red pepper from the vine, carefully sliced it with his pocket knife and offered me a taste of this harvest – the literal fruits of his labor. I doubt I will ever taste a red pepper like that again.

The second, and perhaps most joyous event was an email I received from Philadelphia. While I was in college, I had the privilege and honor (for indeed it was both), to be matched as a bone marrow donor for a young anonymous girl with leukemia. The transplant was a wonderful success and she went into permanent remission. She has since finished college, and I was thrilled to receive an invitation to her wedding, scheduled for November – a wedding that has now (and happily) been postponed due to the arrival of Caleb, the child she was told she would never be able to have.

“May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan.”

With an abundance of things to be thankful for, here is November’s Poem of the Month.